


Reaching Out

by AnnieVH



Series: Behind Closed Doors [36]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family, Gen, Phone Calls, Rumbelle - Freeform, floof family, papafire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 02:30:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4373792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieVH/pseuds/AnnieVH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumple makes good on his promise and calls Neal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Neal

**Author's Note:**

> VERSE information: Behind Closed Door, Rumbelle and Swanfire, contains abusive relationship, implied non-con situations, child-abuse, violence, infidelity, very anti-Milah.
> 
> Beta: MaddieBonanaFana

As Neal’s relationship with his mother grew more volatile, Rumple found that regularly calling his son only to end up telling Milah that he didn’t want to speak to her only resulted in conflict. Nowadays, Neal was the one to call home every week, always during business hours, when his father was sure to be in the shop. There was no chance of his mother overhearing them there, she avoided that place as much as she could.

The fact that it was his father’s name flashing on his cellphone screen made him frown. Rumple didn’t call anymore, unless he had to cancel plans.

“Didn’t we speak two days ago?” Neal said, genuinely confused.

“Can’t a father call his son more than once a week?”

“He  _could_ , but he doesn’t.”

“Special circumstances.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re not coming for my birthday,” Neal said, ready to start a fight. Every year, his mother tried to guilt-trip Rumple into staying at home, instead of going to New York for a celebration she had not been invited to.

It was his father’s turn to be surprised. “Are you kidding me? You only turn thirty once. There’s nothing in the world that would keep me from coming.”

“Good, because Henry is bragging about Operation Mouse for three months already and it’s driving me crazy.”

Rumple laughed. “It’ll be worth it. We’ve got you the perfect gift.”

“Don’t you start teasing me too. I still have to wait five weeks.”

“You have never been a patient child.”

“So, that’s unusual,” Neal said. “You’re calling without bad news? Don’t tell me you just want to poke my curiosity.”

“No, actually it’s… it’s a little bit of bad news.”

Neal didn’t have to wonder for a long time before concluding: “What did mom do now?”

“No, it’s not…” Rumple said, but then he trailed off. “It was an accident.”

“Oh god.”

“My hand was caught in the door when she closed it.”

“Oh god, dad! What happened? Were you fighting or-”

“I told you what happened, Bae,” he said, trying to sound reassuring. “It was an accident. She wasn’t paying attention and I shouldn’t have had my hand there in the first place. I’ve already gone to the doctor and I have a minor fracture. But that will heal long before I have to go to New York.”

“You had a  _fracture_?”

“ _Minor_  fracture,” his father insisted. “It’s nothing!”

“For goodness’ sake, dad!” Neal all but shouted. “It isn’t  _nothing_ , you broke bones!”

“ _One_  bone. Barely.”

“Okay, I want to see this. Send me a picture.”

Rumple paused. “What, you want a selfie of me and my broken hand?”

“Dad!”

“I am  _fine_ , Baelfire!” his father said, sounding very frustrated with the turn their conversation had taken. “It was an unfortunate incident. I thought you might want to know, before one of your spies makes the whole thing to be much worse than it actually is.”

“They’re  _friends_ , not  _spies_. And they wouldn’t have to keep an eye on you if you actually told me about this stuff-”

“Like now.”

“Yes, thank you for calling to tell me everything was  _nothing_  and  _all your fault_.”

“If you don’t believe me, you should just say it!”

“I don’t believe you!” Neal exploded, making his father go quiet again. “I think your hand is much worse than you make it out to be, and I think you’re protecting mom.”

“I see,” he finally said, heartbroken. “I’ll see you in five weeks.”

Neal opened his mouth to demand that he stayed on line. They were going to talk about it, and he was going to answer his damn questions or so help him, he’d drive to Storybrooke and handle Milah himself. But Rumple was quick to hang up and, when Neal called back, he didn’t answer.

 


	2. Belle

Neal called her as soon as she closed the library and retired to her apartment, and Belle took that as a good sign. He wouldn’t be trying to reach her if Rumple hadn’t, at least, given him a brief summary of things. He had kept his promise.

“I was expecting your call,” she said, her heart lighter than it had been all afternoon. “Did your father call, or was it Graham?”

“It was dad,” Neal said. Unlike her, he sounded very displeased.

“Good. That’s a good thing.”

“Oh, it’s freaking fantastic,” Neal answered, full of sarcasm. “He just told me mom accidentally broke his hands and that is wasn’t  _all that bad_.”

“What else did he say?”

“That was the extent of our conversation. I was hoping you’d be able to enlighten me about what really happened.”

Belle couldn’t remember a time when Neal had sounded more upset. And angry. Still, she thought about it and answered honestly, “I cannot say she did it on purpose, come to think of it.”

“Are you  _kidding_  me?” he shouted. Belle took the receiver away from her ear. “ _Of course_  she did it on purpose! It’s  _mom_! That’s what she does!”

Belle waited for him to calm down. When his breathing evened, she said, “Neal these things happen. I am not saying she wasn’t reckless, and I’m not saying you shouldn’t be concerned. I’m just saying that your father wasn’t lying. And that was not the part that worried me.”

“What was it then?” he demanded.

“She didn’t want to take him to the hospital,” Belle said, trying to keep her own voice even. “He clearly needed help, but Dr. Whale and I had to spend a good five minutes trying to convince her, and we didn’t. But at the end, she gave up the idea of driving to Portland anyway and stormed out.”

Belle waited for Neal to start shouting again, but he didn’t say a word.

“Ruby saw it happen, if you’d like to talk to her,” Belle said. “She promised to keep an eye out too. And your dad went to the hospital and he told me he had a small fracture. Seems that his hand will be fine.”

“There’s a reason he needs a cane.”

His whispering voice caught her off guard. Somehow, those quiet words sounded even more desperate than the shouting. They rendered her mute.

“She took four days to drive him to the hospital,” Neal continued. “He rolled down the stairs and broke his ankle, probably because she pushed him, and she didn’t want to get caught, so he waited until she couldn’t get away with it anymore.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“You should have called me.”

“He asked me not to. He wanted to tell you himself. I was going to check with you tomorrow.”

“That’s not what I asked you to do.”

“Neal-”

“I need to keep him safe, Belle,” he pleaded. “I need you to call me as soon as these things happen so that I can help him. Or else, he’ll never tell me.”

“He did now.”

Neal scoffed. “Yes, he was very quick to say it was all his fault.”

“But he called you and told you what happened, which was something he never did before. He actually  _asked me_  to let him speak to you first.”

“Because he wanted to protect  _her_ ,” he said, growing agitated again.

“But what did he say when you asked him about it?”

It was Neal’s turn to go mute.

“I assume you asked him about what happened.”

His answer was timid. “More or less.”

Belle frowned. “More or less?”

“I may have… lost my temper. I accused him of lying. Which he was.”

Belle didn’t volunteer an opinion. Neal must still remember how unlike her that was, because he said, “You think I screwed up.”

“It’s not my place to say.”

Neal thought about that. “I dragged you into my family mess. I think that grants you the right to call me out on my crap.”

“If you ask me, he was reaching out and you could have seized the opportunity.”

There was a sigh turned into static. “I’ve been trying to keep him safe since I was seven, you know? I’m at my wits end with her. I don’t know why I don’t just throw him over my shoulder and lock him in my apartment until he agrees to divorce.”

“Because that won’t work,” Belle answered, as if it was that simple. “I cannot imagine what you’ve both been through. But you won’t get him to leave her by screaming louder than your mother.”

“I can’t just sit and watch this anymore, Belle.”

“I’m not suggesting that. But he called you. Maybe you should say that, you know, you’re glad that he reached out to you. That might encourage him to do it more often.”

“That is not enough, Belle.”

“I know. But he doesn’t want to fight you. He’s not staying with her because he wants to make you unhappy. Or because he doesn’t care for your feelings.”

“I know.” Neal let out a frustrated sound that was almost a growl. “Though sometimes it’s hard to believe  _that_.”

“I just think… he’s a grown man. It’s not easy for him to admit he needs help. And if you’re going to call him a liar every time he does…”

“Right,” he said, and Belle could hear a little bit of guilt crawling into his voice. “Not so sure how to fix that.”

“Calling him would be a good start.”

“I don’t even think he’ll pick up the phone.”

“Baelfire Gold, I am so disappointed!” she said, in her bossiest voice. It must have stirred some memories from childhood fights, because Neal chuckled. “You have always been a stubborn mule. Is something as simple as ‘having to call until he picks up’ really going to stop you?”


	3. Rumple

Rumple wanted to turn off his cellphone to make it clear to Bae just how upset he was with him. But he didn't. If he shut his son out completely, he might drive to Storybrooke. Or worse, call his mother and demand an explanation. In fact, when the ringing finally stopped, Rumple spent the next half-hour going over terrible scenarios in his head and considered calling him back to try to salvage the situation the best he could. But, after a thirty minute break, Bae started calling again, more persistently than before.

It wasn't hard to guess what had happened since the last time they had spoken, so he answered the phone with an accusation.

“I assume you talked to Belle.”

Bae's voice was sheepish. “Yeah.”

“What did she say?”

“That you probably hurt your hand in an accident. And that mom didn't want to drive you to the hospital.”

“And you called back to rip me a new one for not giving you full disclosure?”

“No, I...” Bae said, but his voice died.

Rumple took the opportunity to listen for the television downstairs. Milah hadn't ventured into the bedroom, be it to start a fight or to see how he was doing. It wouldn't surprise him if she spent the night in her old bedroom, the one she had moved into when their marriage was spiraling out of control, and that she still kept tidied up for nights like this. The possibility of his wife overhearing that conversation filled him with dread. He really didn't need another battle, not when his hand was pounding and the medication was making him drowsy.

“I'm always worried,” Bae said, still quiet. “I hate it when you get hurt. And you know that mom just sets me on edge. I didn't mean to call you a liar.”

“But you did,” Rumple said, not feeling particularly merciful at the moment.

“I know,” Bae answered. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. It's just that... you're so good, Papa. And you don't want me to hate her any more than I already do. So I assumed you were protecting her.”

Rumple didn't say a word. Bae's voice was full of shame, but he was the one who was starting to feel embarrassed. He _had_ been protecting Milah. In fact, he had only called Bae so he wouldn't have to learn of the whole thing from Belle and blow it out of proportion.

“I'm happy that you called, dad, truly,” he continued. “I don't want to discourage you from doing that in the future because your son is an ass.”

“My son is not an ass,” Rumple said. “He just worries too much when he doesn't have to. That's why I called. Had you talked to Belle first, you'd be on your way here when there's no need.”

“Do you promise you're alright?”

“I promise.”

“And your hand is fine?”

“As fine as it can be with a broken bone, but it's my left hand. It wasn't good for much to begin with.”

Bae didn't laugh. “You really don't need help?”

“It's alright, son.”

“And... and mom is not giving you a hard time, is she?”

“She's just sad that I'm leaving to New York without her. That's why she wasn't paying attention.”

When Bae stayed quiet, Rumple frowned.

“Isn't this the moment when you ask me to leave her?”

“It is.”

“But you're not going to do it?”

Bae sighed. “I want to. Really, really bad. You didn't look happy the last time I saw you.”

Rumple's “I'm fine,” sounded like an automatic reply, perfected by the years of practice.

“So it's just my birthday?” he pressed, gently.

Rumple felt the urge to lie. It would make everything much easier. But he had just given Bae a hard time for calling him a liar, and not wanting to add a guilty conscience to the physical pain, he said, “It feels like we took a huge step back since Valentine's Day.”

“Still with the drawing?”

“The drawing, and then you came to town and didn't talk to her, and now there's Belle-”

“Belle?”

Rumple waved dismissively at the empty room. “Your mother put it in her head that she has a crush on me.”

He waited for Bae to say, “Typical mom! Always giving you a hard time for _nothing_!”

Instead, he said, “Huh.”

Rumple frowned. “Huh what?”

“She's not the type mom usually picks for a jealous rant.”

That was true. Though she often poked or kicked him for looking at beautiful women – whether he did or did not look, it didn't really matter and he had giving up trying to explain himself years ago – Milah was selective about the women she obsessed with. Typically, women around her age, wives of acquaintances, who were more successful or looked better than her. Milah regarded women like Belle the same way she would a little girl. Not a threat, just a pretty face. Good enough for giving him a smack in public and say, almost endearingly, “Excuse me, sir! You are still married!”

“Maybe it's because she likes to spend time with you,” Bae said, musing.

“Baelfire, you're not suggesting-”

“No! God no! She's my friend, that would be weird. Just saying, I see where mom's coming from.”

“That's a first.”

“I hope that doesn't stop you from seeing Belle. She's a good friend.”

“I know. Was it her idea to call back and apologize?”

“Well, I was going to do it anyway. You raised me to be a very polite young man.”

“Right. Another thing I should thank her for.”

“Yes. I should invite her to my birthday party. She'd enjoy New York.”

Rumple smiled. “She would. She really would.”

“You sound exhausted. I'll let you rest.”

“Thank you, love.”

“And, uhn, don't hesitate to call. Okay? In case you need anything.”

_Or mom tries something nasty_ , he didn't say. Rumple knew it was there anyway. It was somewhat comforting.

“I will. Night, son.”

“Night, dad.”

Rumple swallowed another painkiller (Whale wouldn't approve, but who'd tell him?) and settled under the covers,  his heart lighter than it had been all day. It was good to go to bed without the feeling of guilt, or mulling over pointless fights. Besides, in five weeks his son would be turning thirty. He'd spend ten days in New York, spoiling Henry rotten and drinking good Whiskey with David.  A break. That was all  they needed.

Just as he began to realize that Belle would be there as well, he slipped easily into sleep, so fast and so caught up in pleasant thoughts that when his mind whispered, “Milah won't like it,” he didn't pay attention to it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Picspam: http://annievh.tumblr.com/post/102166515522/behind-closed-doors-warnings-domestic-abuse


End file.
